Escape to the North
by Havok in Greenwood
Summary: Also called "The Wooden Unicorn" First book in a trilogy A young half-elven boy and his family must escape their homeland after being hunted for their elvish descendance. They must try to get to a safe elvish kingdom in the North, however they face some difficulties on the way and meet several people who change their lives- some for better, others for worse
1. Chapter 1

She was like any other child at birth, loud, soft and drooling. She looked similar to any other, made the same unintelligible sounds like any other. But I knew from the moment I saw her, that she was different. She had our mothers golden hair and deep brown eyes, but she also had the enchanted and distinct ears of a woodland elf. My mother and I were ordinary folk, descendants of the same regular, ordinary folk, but every person of mankind descendence had that same longing and desire to be one of 'the woodland folk'. These folk were elves- beautiful, wise and immortal, but almost a myth to the men of our time. But mother knew they were not mythical, for once, lost, alone and half dead she had stumbled through woods dark and dangerous and fallen into sleep on the dank dirty ground by the base of an ancient willow. There, beneath the suffocating blanket of darkness, she was found and saved by a kin more fair and kindly than any that was known to her. In that kin, she found my father, a renowned warrior with a pure heart and they fell in love. For a while they lived in the forest, but eventually they returned, before I was born, to the small village where my mother was raised, and where I was to be raised too.

My mother told no-one in the village the whole truth- to anyone apart from me, my parents and the elves, my father was an ordinary man. I suppose I inherited some of his elvish manner, I was light on my feet and good with a bow, even my ears were somewhat pointed, but looking at the little girl lying in my arms, I could see that she was as elvish as any descendant of man could be. She was born on the first day of spring and mother and I took her down to the lake in the early hours of the morning. The sun was just rising up from the distant horizon, and the whole pool of water glimmered like gold. That morning, for the first time all year, the white water lilies opened and spread their petals, gleaming with dew and sunlight. And so, we called the young girl Lily.

We had hoped father could be there, but we all knew he wasn't coming back. The war had most likely claimed his life as it had most to of the men in the village. Mother was hopeless, she had been crying for months since he left, I think today is the first time she has smiled in ages. Even I, though, had almost lost all faith, elves may be immortal, but that does not mean that they cannot die. I wonder if mother will tell young Lily of father, of her elven ancestors. She most definitely would eventually wonder the origin of her defined ears. So many things I wonder for her sake, will she be immortal, hold any powers? For now though, everything was good and bright and peaceful.

'Mother,' my voice broke the empty silence, 'Shall we ever take Lily to see the elves?'

Mother and father had taken me when I was very young, and the lord and lady of the wood blessed me with long life, strength, courage and happiness. Their faces stayed in my mind, I can still see them now, and their voices, cool and sweet still ring through the air around me. Not only did I want Lily to meet them too, but I longed to see them again, and to ask if they knew what had become of Father.

'Someday.' Came her reply. 'But not yet. Lily is a special child, only when she is older shall we risk the forest.'

'But I was young when you brought me before the Lord and Lady.'

'Back then we had your father to protect you. Not every woodland elf knows me, I won't take any chances. Your father is one of their kin, and so they would not dare to hurt him, but I am not.'

We sat in silence for a while after that, and then gathered as many lilies from the water's edge as we could to decorate Lily's cradle. It was still early morning when we left, and the sun kissed our bare cheeks goodbye warmly. I barely noticed the crowds outside the Village Hall; I was staring to intently at the bright face of Lily, until we were within five meters of the hall. And the sight which awaited us was not pleasant.

They had put up a list. On a tea-stained scroll of paper, was a list. A handwritten list of names. There were hundreds, so many I could hardly count them. Many people in the village could not read, and so there was a tall man standing on a crate reading the names aloud. That was where the crowd was gathered, around the crate, listening intently, and as each name was announced, a few people left in aching silence or burst into tears.

'What is it, mother? What are all these names for?'

She would not say. In fact, she did not respond. She just stared into the distance, unblinking, motionless. I turned to the list, and although I could hardly read, I managed to make out the title: _The Fallen._

I knew what it meant. I knew all too well. War was over, it was won. But more than that was over, and far more was lost. These names- they were people, people who could never come back. Who could never see another day. These were the fallen.

"Mother!" she had burst into tears, her face crumpled and red, and her mouth open in shock. She was staring at a name, right at the bottom of the list.

NO.

It couldn't be.

It wasn't possible.

Phalandrir Orchad-Ash.

Father.

Fallen.

How could such a beautiful day suddenly grow so dark? A hot sun suddenly feel like an icy breeze? Joy suddenly seems so empty? He was gone. He would never see the Woods again. He would never see the lake, or mother, or me again. He would never see Lily.

At first I couldn't cry.

I couldn't breathe

I couldn't think, or speak or move.

Then it all came rushing over me. Grief swallowed me, and tears choked my throat. I felt like my eyes were waterfalls, the tears didn't stop. Sobs burst through my mouth and salty tears splashed on my tongue. I felt mothers arms wrap around my shivering body, she was warm and wet and I could hear her heart pumping so loudly and quickly I thought it would burst. In one arm she held Lily, and the baby's soft body pressed against my face. Lily's eyes were shut and her heartbeat was slow. Her touch almost immediately freed my throat of choking sobs and I drew in a deep breath. Her eyes opened and her warm brown eyes looked at me so intently that I felt naked, like she could see my soul. Just having her there, looking at me like that, calmed me, comforted me, and I felt warmth enter my body again. Mother's heartbeat was slowing. This child was magic. Precious. And all that remained of my father.


	2. Emptiness

1

Emptiness

My name is Hesper Orchad-Ash and I am 14 years old. I live with my mother and five-year-old sister, Lily. When I was nine years old, my father died in battle. Living without him at first felt, empty. I would spend the long days simply staring at the wooden necklace he had carved for me. My father was always carving intricately detailed objects from fallen branches that he found on the forest floor. He himself had made a beautiful bow from a pale wooden branch which was thick and soft, and that was one of the few carvings he ever kept, for he liked to sell them in the village markets. The other was this one that I held in my hands. The wood was dark and hard, but smoothly polished. It was in the shape of an elegant stallion with a single horn protruding from the center of its head. Where its small wooden eye was located my Father had placed a tiny purple jewel that glittered beneath the sun's face. The other children in the village used to tease me about it, saying it was a girly thing, but as I grew older it too seemed to grow- larger and stronger and its eye began to glow more and more with each day that passed. I didn't care what the other children thought, even though this little wooden animal was my only friend. With Lily around though, it is hard to be unhappy. I live in a small village a day away from Gondor on foot. It is peaceful here, quiet, and empty. I grew up here, lived here all my life. I was even born here fourteen years and two months ago. For the first nine years of my life, I loved it here. Just beyond the borders of the village lies the forest my father is from. He was one of "the woodland folk"- an elf. I always dreamed of being one, I often still dream of it now. But since father died, I can't help but wish I could escape from here. I would go anywhere, live anywhere, but not here. It holds the memory of my father too dearly. Of course, I could never leave my mother and sister behind, but I have no friends- the other children here are foolish, and most have lived in the realm of Gondor all their lives, safe from despair, grief and loss. For a few years after we lost father, all was good and peaceful. But now, there are dark storms coming. I can feel them, Lily can too. There is something about her that lies unseen. She hardly talks aloud. Instead her words echo through my head, yet her small pink lips are tightly clenched.

The outside world feels years away. No one has come to or left our village for three years. Nothing new for three years. Emptiness for three years. Emptiness that gnawed away inside me. Nights were full of haunted dreams, bloodcurdling shrieks all that flowed through my mind. For a month now, it seemed like every day was black. The dark sky devoured all light and casted an eerie red shadow on the decomposing buildings. At first I didn't notice. It takes a little while to realize that the village was dying. That the woods were rotting. That the sky was crumbling. Some people still haven't noticed. But Lily knew before anyone else. Her pained cries burst through the silence of the night and though mother hugged her as hard as she could nothing could stop her crying; her bloodshot eyes constantly leaking rivers of salty tears, her thin body shaking, pouring with sweat, her face as pale and wet as snow. It took a week before it got me too. Searing pain eating me alive, endless torture, my body burning one minute, the next my blood was ice cold. But not a single human felt it. Even mother was immune. She could do nothing but watch us waste away.

We all thought it was sickness. After all, the high fevers, the spasms, the crimson blood in our acidic vomit, were all symptoms of plague. So that night, a week after the disease caught me in its jaws, mother took us to the elves. It was the pitch black of night, a few stars twinkling in the clear night sky. Lily was so weak mother was carrying her, bundled up in a thick static blanket. I grabbed my patched tweed coat and off we went. We were all barefoot. I used to love walking in the forest barefoot; feeling the soft wet grass between my toes, but now the ground was rough and sharp, like a razor scraping at the thick tough skin on the soles of my feet. The forest was deadly quiet when first we entered. An empty, aching silence. Normally I felt free here, but now it seemed like a cage. The air was suffocating, there was not even a gentle breeze playfully whispering to the crunchy leaves, no light gust of wind to cool my face, not even a breath of fresh air to fill my broken lungs.

But even silence would be better than the sound that came next- a sound I had grown familiar to. An ear piercing screech shattered the fragile silence and before our eyes we saw a man tumble from the wooden platform high above where he had been sleeping. My feet flew to where he had fallen as swiftly as a hawk. He was an elf, his eyes wide open, his pale lips gasping shallow breaths. His icy hand clutched mine and his frozen tears landed gently on the harsh ground beside him.

"Are you okay? Can you hear me?" my dry throat cracked my voice.

He simply stared at me, blankly, his mouth gaping open. His wide eyes still poured tears but he didn't blink.

"Is he alive? Is he breathing? Hesper!" My mother was running as fast as she could, still clutching Lily in her arms.

I leant my ear to his chest. Not a sound to be heard. His chest stayed still; there was no gentle rise and fall. I rested my fingers above his lip- there was no breath.

"No! No he isn't alive! He isn't breathing!" I was shaking so much I felt like I would collapse. With my fingers I gently pulled his ashen eyelids over the glassy golden mirrors of his eyes. I had experienced loss and death but I had never seen it. Hopefully I would never see it again.

"We need to keep moving. Obviously it is not only you two who have this disease." My mother was trying to stay strong but she was quivering excessively and her eyes looked afraid. I slowly raised myself to a standing position; my eyes hooked on the lifeless elf sprawled on the ground. I clenched my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering and we began moving on, slowly stumbling onward until we reached the cool marble steps leading to the Hall of the Lady and Lord of the wood. Except instead of smooth marble it was chipped and rough in some places, brambles and thorns had begun entwining themselves around the handrails and patches of moss had covered some of the steps. Our bare feet pattered lightly up the steps, my clammy hands gripping the sharp thorns of the rail, prickly leaves spiking my skin. Onward we went- beneath the gilded and decorative doorway, the carvings now faded and the paint worn away. The hall was more silent than a graveyard, the only sound a light trickle of water. When I had come here before it had been full of life, filled with the fragrance of hundreds of flowers and the light of every star. But now it was empty, apart from the crumbling thrones where the Lord and Lady sat, their fair faces drooping, the hall filled only with the bitter salty scent of tears.

"Why you have come we know, but we cannot help you." The clear sweet voice of the Lady echoed through the silence before we had even announced ourselves.

"Please, there must be something you can do to cure this disease!" my mother cried

"It is no disease. It has no cure. We have felt it for a long time, the more elvish blood in you the sooner you feel it. The times of magic and wonder are coming to an end. The times of anything abnormal or special. The time of elves, dragons, wizards, unicorns and anything else 'unordinary'. Our time is coming to an end." She spoke with her head hanging, her golden hair splayed over her shoulders, her voice low and mournful.

"What do you mean? Why is it over? What is it?"

"Cruel men with weak hearts, possessed by greed and jealousy, sat out to destroy us. They have tortured as many of us as they can find, for they know we are all linked, and through one elf's pain all elves will feel pain. They are coming. They will capture what few of us are still surviving." She finally raised her head, her bright blue eyes brimming with tears.

"It is over."

My mother was clutching Lily so hard her knuckles were white.

"Come child," she beckoned to me, "We have to go. NOW!"


	3. The Hunt has Begun

2

The Hunt Has Begun

We had packed every piece of food in the house, a pair of spare clothes each, and one precious item we just couldn't give up- for me, it was the little wooden necklace. We would leave the next night, but so it didn't seem suspicious mother had told everyone in the village we were visiting relatives who lived quite far away. We thought we could get away in time. We thought we could escape. We were wrong.

It started with fire. Dark menacing clouds of putrid ash that rose through the air, the smell of smoke burning my nostrils, immense heat, all around me, hovering over my skin as if it were radiating from inside me. The woods were burning. The ancient golden trees were smoldering beneath the hungry flames and the screams of the remaining elves as the burned echoed through the valley. At first I thought it was one of the nightmares- I had had ones about fire before. But it didn't take long to realize this was actually happening.

"Mother! Lily!" I cried at the top of my lungs. I dashed into the next room where Lily was sleeping and grabbed in my arms. Mother was waiting in the hallway. She seized Lily from me while I snatched most of the heavy bags off the floor. The tongues of fire were licking their way towards the village as quickly as lightning bolts. We were running out of time.

"To the lake!" I could hear my mother scream. "We will be safe from the fire there." She grabbed the last bag that lay on the dusty ground.

"Get the boat. Hurry. Take it to the lake. We will wait for you." Tears were pricking at her dark eyes. "Hurry!"

I slung the rough material of the weighty bags over my shoulder and sprinted for the shed, the hot breeze flying through my tangled hair. The creaky old door had been left ajar so I ran right in. The small wooden boat sat in the corner patiently, a frayed rope hanging from its bow. With a heave I threw the bags into its solid frame and grasped the rough length of rope in my hands. The boat was heavy and difficult to drag but slowly started moving. But as soon as I turned around I knew something was wrong. The door, that I had left wide open, was shut. And bolted. The familiar smell of ash and smoke filled my nostrils. I was locked in a burning room! I tore off my rough shirt and wrapped it around my head to keep out the smoke. Then, leaving the rope lying in the dust I threw myself at the door as hard as I could. The rusted metal frame shuddered but stayed strong.

"Help! Help!" my throat was on fire. The smoke was so thick I could hardly see now and the heat was everywhere.

"Mother! Help! Mother! Father!"

Father? Why would I say that? My Father had been gone for five years.

"Someone, anyone, HELP!"

The doors flew open as if I had yelled a password, and a tiny burst of fresh air filled my lungs. A silhouette of boy hardly older than me seized me as if I were lighter than a feather and slung me over his shoulder. He smelt of mint and spring. He seized the rope with one hand and started running from the shed, with me bouncing on his strong shoulders and the boat slowly dragging along behind.

"Where to?" his voice was sweet but low. I could feel his long silky hair against my hot skin.

"The lake." I croaked. I knew I shouldn't tell someone I had never even seen before that we were escaping but something about him made me want to trust him.

He was lighter on his feet than any creature I had seen before- faster even than the strongest elves in the wood. It took only a few minutes to get there. I could hear my mother scream with relief and shock and felt her squeeze my hand.

The boy lay me down gently in the boat and carried it to the water's edge. I could feel Mother and Lily get in beside me. My mother grasped his hand and smiled through her tears.

"Thank you! Thank you! You saved my son."

"I did what I could." He gave the boat a gentle push and we started drifting away.

"No!" I cried.

"What is it?" my mother and the boy replied in unison.

"Come with us." I said, sitting up as best I could. The boy's face was coming into view- long golden hair, sharp cheekbones, comforting blue eyes.

"You'll die if you don't. You're an elf." I have no idea how I knew, but once I said it I was sure.

"Yes, come." Said my mother.

"Fine." He pushed a few strands of hair back off his shoulders to reveal a pair of pointed ears. Then he pushed the boat once more and leapt in, grabbing the oars in his strong arms and quickly starting to paddle. I took one last look back at my home. Burning. The hunt had begun.


	4. Myral

3

Myral

I woke up rocking. I woke up bobbing up and down, the sun on my face, the sound of water beside me. Then most of last night came flooding back and a searing pain emerged on my arm.

"Ah, you're awake!" mother sounded cheery. "It's almost midday!"

I slowly sat up, but my eyes stayed closed.

"Oh, your arm. Myral made some medicine for it and we used some old cloth to bandage it." My eyes shot open as I glanced down at my bandaged elbow.

"Myral?"

"The elf boy. He saved your life you know."

"I know. Where is he?" I felt guilty I hadn't thanked him yet.

"Resting. He's been rowing all night." Mother was sitting by the bow of the boat, nibbling at a small chunk of bread. Her hair was greasy and tangled and she wore the same torn blue dress as last night. Lily was kneeling by the edge, reaching out towards the snow-white petalled flowers that named her. Her little white dress was dirty and burnt in some patches. On the opposite side of the boat lay Myral. He seemed asleep yet his eyes stayed open, unblinking. I shuddered remembering the elf that fell in the wood. My stomach grumbled uncomfortably.

"Oh, you must be starving! Here, have some bread." She tossed me a chunk. The outside was tough and chewy and the middle dense and compact but it tasted delicious anyway.

"Thanks. Where are we actually planning on going?"

"The cruel men, or Blood-Hungers as Myral calls them, are running rampant throughout the entire southern area of the land, but the borders of the northern lands are safe, protected by ancient elvish spells that no bloodthirsty creature can pass. We must head as far north as we can."

"What if we are caught? We have no weapons! I cannot fight, and I doubt Lily can either."

"Myral can fight. And he has many weapons; a bow for himself, a spare bow, which you will use, and several small daggers- one for each of us."

"But I don't know how to use a bow!"

"You have elvish blood in you. You will know when the time comes."

"You're tired. Let me take the oars." I said, noticing the bags under her eyes. She didn't hesitate to hand them over, the relief clear on her face. She settled down in the place I had lain before and drifted into the realm of dreams- Lorien as we call it. The rowing was painful, my burnt arm stinging madly. I couldn't even remember getting burnt, everything was still a blur. I had lost my shirt too- it probably fell off my head when Myral was carrying me to the lake. I kept wishing he would just wake up so I could thank him, but at the same time wishing he wouldn't because I didn't know how.

"He knows you're grateful." I had forgotten Lily was even there- she had been so quiet. I had also forgotten how simply she could peer into people's minds.

"I still don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything." She still had her back towards me, staring at the calm water, but now she turned around. "He understands."

What I couldn't understand was how quickly all of us had begun trusting this stranger- sure, he had saved my life, I was forever indebted, but I had grown up learning only to trust with time. We had known this elf for no more than a night and already our company had grown to four members.

"How long have you been awake?"

"I don't know. I couldn't sleep."

"You should try again. We all need as much rest as we can get."

She curled herself up into a small ball beside mother and sure enough, within seconds she was gently dozing to sleep.

It was empty and quiet all around. Sometime through the night we must have reached the small river that was attached to the lake. Although small, it moved slowly and the ride was becoming gentler the more it continued. I took another look at Myral, peacefully asleep. Suddenly he was lurching, screaming, crying! Crimson blood trickled out of the edges of his eyes and down his pale face, mixed with tears, tortured cries erupting from his open mouth. I threw the oars into the boat and leapt towards him.

"Mother!" I grasped her shoulder hard enough to wake her. "It's Myral, hurry! He needs help."

In a moment she was beside me, her eyes covered in dry sleep. Lily was up soon after. Myral's screams persisted, his beautiful voice twisted by pain. Lily rose to her feet, the light wind flying through her long golden hair. Her bare pale feet slowly glided to where he lay. In a moment she was kneeling beside me, placing her small hand onto his damp face. Then she started to sing- a clear sweet melody I had never heard before, and just the sound of it was healing enough. Soon Myral's cries became gentle groans, which eventually stopped. Mother grabbed a cloth and wet it in the cool water beside us.

"Get back to the oars." She commanded, dabbing at Myral's hot face, wiping away the streams of blood, sweat and tears.

I did as I was told, wincing gently with each stroke. Myral's eyelashes were beginning to flicker and he blinked several times. Mother handed him a piece of bread and told him reassuringly to go back to sleep, but he refused, claiming he'd had enough rest. Mother and Lily settled down again- Lily was completely exhausted after working her magic on Myral. So it was just me and the elf, sitting in a boat. He offered to take the oars from me, seeing the pain when I moved my arm, and I happily agreed.

"Thank you." I said, out of the blue.

"What for?"

What kind of question was that?

"For saving my life. And for rowing. Thank you."

"It's okay. Thank you for letting me come with you."

For a moment then we sat in silence.

"Where is your family?" I finally broke the silence, but the look on his face made me wish I hadn't.

"My father was captured by the Blood-Hungers. He was tortured to death. When its family, the sickness gets worse. We knew it was him that died because me and my mother felt it before anyone else, and worse than anyone else."

He was trying to keep his expression strong; his mouth was set in a firm line. He started rowing harder and faster.

"And your mother?" I was getting more and more curious- I couldn't control myself.

"She perished in the fire, I think. If she didn't they will have caught her by now."

"They haven't caught you."

"I'm lucky."

After that there was a long pause. It seemed like time had stopped entirely.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He glanced up at me for a moment and I couldn't help but notice the golden flecks in his crystal blue eyes.

The river stretched and wound before us like a path of glittering pearls, shining beneath the golden sun. There was a long way to go before we were truly safe.


	5. On Land Once More

4

On Land Once More

The river came to an end later that night, so we excited the boat onto a pale sandy shore by the edge of a forest. The round silver face of the moon stared down at us from above. We had to fill the boat with water so it sank then divided the bags between three of us- Mother, Myral and me. We dressed in clean clothes and ate a small amount each, then headed into the forest, the bony trees scratching the surface of the sky.

Many times I was unsure of the direction we were going- there was no path so the entire time we were dodging trees and stumbling over hidden rocks in the dark. Yet Mother had a good sense of direction and we headed on, staying as sure of ourselves as we could. As the night wore on we grew weary. Mother walked at the front, but she slowed almost to a standstill. Though Lily had no bags, she was young and tired, stumbling along behind Mother as if she were about to topple. I walked behind both of them, my eyelids growing heavy and my feet hardly rising from the ground which each step. Yet though the rest of us were weak and unalert, Myral walked at the back, his keen eyes searching the forest for any signs of movement, his bow tightly grasped in his right hand, his left hovering over his quiver of arrows, lightly brushing the arrow-feathers between his fingers.

None of us spoke. All I wanted to do was rest, but I knew we couldn't until we found someplace safe enough. So we carried on. My arm was already pretty much healed after little more than a day and the stinging had passed, but it was still sensitive to touch. Only one day ago we had visited the forest for the last time but it felt like years ago now. I thought of all the beautiful golden trees turned to ash, the gentle souled elves now no more than a pile of charred corpses. I thought of my father- the times he would hold me in his warm gentle arms, his hearty laugh filling the silence. I thought of everything I missed, everything that was gone, destroyed.

But then I persuaded myself to think of the future, the safety when we reached the northern borders, starting a new life with my mother, and Lily, and possibly even Myral.

We eventually found a small damp cave and covered the ground in undergrowth and dry leaves. Mother handed out blankets and we slept under them beneath more leaves to disguise us and keep us warm, for nights were steadily getting colder. We slept all through the next day, and headed off that night so we were as inconspicuous as possible. The forest was growing thin and coming to an end which was an uncomfortable thought. The open would make it far easier to catch us.

We spent the next day sleeping in large trees on their sturdy branches. The leaves were so sheltering they kept out most of the light and disguised us well. However we had not found a water source yet and our water bottles were nearly empty. Each day that passed through the forest our bags grew lighter as food grew scarce. Myral had to shoot birds which we cooked under low flame to eat. But then the day came that we had to enter the open. At first it was a relief, for a cool stream was running nearby which we drank from, bathed in and filled our bottles from. We caught a few fish as well and dried them with a little salt. We packed a few in each bag and ate one each before heading onward, refreshed and reenergized. We found ourselves in a deep valley which concealed us well, but still we were unsure of the possibility we could be ambushed. Lily and Mother had strapped their daggers to their belts and I carried my bow with me. Myral was the only one who held his weapon in his hand, having already positioned the arrow on his bowstring.

None of us talked. It was hard enough to see where we were going for the wispy clouds had covered the waning moon almost completely. The sickness still persevered, with Myral especially, but he stayed strong and kept lookout most nights. As a full elf, he was nearly tireless and kept watch throughout the day while the rest of us slept.

Luckily for us, the town where we lived was close to the northern borders, so by now we were over halfway there. The valley grew before us, but I could see that by the time two days was up, we would be on open land again. The sun soon began to rise, drifting up from behind the distant mountains, surrounded by a crown of pinks, reds and oranges.

Once more we found a small cave-like hole to sleep in. We had only few dried fish left but Myral managed to catch a few birds which we ate instead, choosing to save the fish as it would last longer. Our journey was far from over but at least we were on land once more


	6. The Capture

5

The Capture

When the next night fell, we awoke again- we had become nocturnal animals, like bats or vampires we hid from the sun and came alive at the set of the sun. Tonight there was no moon, only a few stars speckling the dusky sky. Sure enough we came to the edge of the valley that night and onto the open plains. It was hauntingly quiet, not even a single owl hooted or a single cricket chirped. We were entering the land of the Blood-Hungers.

We moved quickly, all of us alert, eyes like hawks searching the dark. My heart was thumping in my ears and I could feel the hot blood fizzing in every part of my body. Lily was shaking and her teeth chattered lightly, even though the night was hot so far. We had dressed ourselves in our darkest clothes to try appear inconspicuous but I felt so obvious. Like any moment someone would jump out of the dark and catch us, but we made it the whole night without being noticed.

We were once more, lucky enough to find a large dry hole to spend the day in while we slept. But our luck did not last long. The disease hit again that day. I didn't feel it. But Lily and Myral did. We were all tired- hungry for a little rest, a moment of sleep. But their screams destroyed any hope of it. Mother and I had to gag them both so we wouldn't be heard, but we both felt so guilty.

"Hesper?" mother turned to look at me

"Yes, mother."

"I need you to do something for me."

"Sure. What is it?"

"I need you to go outside and find some water."

"What? Out there? In plain daylight? What if there is no water?"

She looked down, helplessly- looking both guilty and innocent at once. "I know it seems ridiculous, but please. Do it for your sister, for Myral, for me too. I know it's risky but you can do it. I trust you. Just yell if anything happens."

"Fine." I grabbed my knife and shoved it into my belt. I piled the water bottles into a bag and placed it on my back and grabbed my bow and a few arrows from Myral's quiver. I checked to make sure that I still wore the necklace, the violet gemstone still winking at me cheekily. Then I headed out.

I used to be scared of the dark. I always thought of the dark as a frightening place full of invisible cloaked figures that leapt out and grabbed you unaware. But right now, as I stepped out of that hole into bright sunlight I felt more scared than I ever had in the darkness.

After a while of walking I was lucky enough to find a small pool of water beneath a small hole in the rock above. I splashed my face, filled the bottles and was about to head back when the sound of harsh voices reached my ears. I froze and every hair on my body stood up straight and tall like a collection of tiny poles cemented into my skin. I finally woke myself up again and grabbed the rock above me, using all my strength to haul myself on top of it. My knees grazed the rough black stone but I didn't care. My breathing was rough and desperate. I slid back on the muddy rock and seized my bow tightly in my hands. Feeling the soft feathers of the bow between my fingers I slotted it onto the gentle wooden frame. Raising the bow in front of me, the arrow drawn back, I waited.

The water beneath be trickled from the rock- a light sound echoing in the deathly quiet. Eventually a new sound arrived, heavy trudging feet crunching the tiny stones scattered over the dusty ground. I braced myself, tensing my muscles to stop my legs from shaking, clenching my jaw tightly against my chattering teeth.

Finally a figure emerged- tall and dark, like shadow come to life. I released the arrow and it whistled through the air, missing him by miles. I struggled to my feet and readied another arrow. The man was laughing now, his wide mouth an endless tunnel of smoke. I stared right back at him; determined, all the while knowing I was glaring death right in the face. The bow melted in to me, the arrow was part of me. This was for my father.

The arrow shot through the air bravely, right where I had wanted, his black yet bloodshot eye. He fell back, and time slowed down. I couldn't believe what I had done. I had killed a man. His crimson blood spread hungrily over the dry ground. I wanted so badly to stop and rest but I knew I had to get out of here. Just as I was about to leap from the rocky ledge a hand grasped my mouth and the smell of ash overwhelmed me. My legs kicked against the dark solid figure but it was pointless. His grasp was solid. My teeth sank deep into his hand as I fought back. He gave a startled cry and threw me to the ground. A small trickle of blood dripped from his hand onto the dark, dusty ground and I felt his heavy boot hit my back, hard. He dragged me off the ground by my hair and bent my head back so I could see the capture unfold.

Mother came running. Her hair was plastered to her face with tears and her face was red. Several men came running at her but she couldn't look away from my eyes. She was screaming:  
"where is my child? Where is my son?" even though she could see me clear as day. The men seized her, and I knew there was no hope of either of us escaping. She was surrounded by at least six and more were coming.

A bag was thrown over my head and I felt the necklace slide from my neck onto the dusty ground. The last thing I remember was the mad cries of my mother as they clicked chains over her ankles and beat her to the ground.

We had been caught.


	7. Torture

6

Torture

Up until I was seven years old, my father used to play games with me on the edge of the forest. My favorite was called Hide-and-Seek, and it usually began with my father counting to fifty while I went to find someplace to hide. When he was finished counting he would come and try find me. My favorite place to hide was usually in the high tree tops where I could often find a sturdy branch to sit on. One tree as my absolute favorite, and my father knew that, so it was often quite easy for him to find me. The tree was called _Wondering Willow _and my father had carved our names into its smooth trunk. One day we were playing Hide-and-Seek and I, of course, went to my usual spot. A large rabbit had burrowed into the soft ground at the base of the willow and a frightening wide and deep hole now sat by the roots of the old tree. Confident, I sprinted toward it and leapt for the closest branch, which seemed smooth and solid. But it wasn't. With a _crack _I was falling until I landed hard on the ground. For a few moments I lay there, my eyes closed, trying to breathe yet too winded to do much more than gasp shallow, painful gasps. When I finally opened my eyes, it was so dark it was as if they were still closed…

That is how I felt now; frightened, blind, choking. My eyes desperately searched through the dark but found nothing. I was walking through a rough tunnel, Blood-Hungers around me on every side. My feet and hands had been chained and my mouth was gagged with a tight knotted cloth.

The tunnel continued for a while, slowly sloping downward into a shadowy unknown. The air was thick and stale and smelt of blood and sweat, with a metallic taste that leaked through my gag into my mouth. I glanced back to see my mother walking a few meters behind me. Her head hang down and her untied hair was splayed over her shoulders and in front of her like curtains hanging over furniture. There was blood dripping from her nose and in the dark it looked like oil trickling from her pale and forlorn face. Finally the tunnel came to a split and we were dragged to the left side, which led to a wide, rocky cave. Great splinters of black stone hung threateningly from the ceiling, as if they could fall on us at any moment. There were more men inside, and one lit a wan candle and used it to ignite the nearby torches. Finally I could clearly see my surroundings, but I wish I hadn't.

A small wooden chair stood in the center of the room. It was surrounded by a circle of torch lights which were suspended by wires that hung from the roof and illuminated the figure which was seated in the center. I couldn't see his face- a drape of ginger silk-like hair hid it from view. He was bound to the chair so tightly his fingers were purple and blood was streaming from the slits of his wrists.

One of the Blood-Hungers, who I assumed to be the captain from his crimson leather suit, stepped forward and grabbed the figure by the hair, bending his head backward so he could see the face of his victim. After a few moments the captain drew his knife and slashed the bound mans neck. He undid the bonds and threw the body at my feet. It was once a fair faced elf, now the hideous aftermath of torture.

Now it was our turn.

They seized Mother first. She was thrown into the chair sharply and her gag was torn off. The captain sauntered up to her casually, as if torture was an everyday activity that he relished. He lifted her head up towards him and she defiantly glared back.  
"I would hate to ruin your pretty face." He said, fingering his knife delicately. "After all, you are human."

She didn't respond.

"I just want to ask a few questions." His voice was falsely gentle; you could hear rough ugliness of its tones though he tried to sound kind.

"What were you doing in our land?"

Mother clasped her lips together firmly. She looked down.

"You won't tell us? Hmm, how could we make you?"

He turned to grin at me and his false tooth glinted. He gestured to the men around me who snatched me from the ground. The captain walked slowly towards me, grinning devilishly, his bright eyes flashing, the hollow whites glowing eerily.

"I reckon this little fella could do without one of these little pointy ears…" my ears were hardly pointed at all, but clearly this man could smell the elvish blood from a mile away.

"No! Stop!" mother cried. "Please! Don't hurt him. He's human. As am i. we were merely passing through. I sent him to find water when he was caught. We mean no harm!"

He turned quickly on his heels and paced back to where she was sitting, tears streaming down her face.

"And what of the others?"

"There were no others."

"YOU LIE!" he roared, slapping her face. "There were TWO others. One of elf kind. The other was very young."

"You must be mistaken." Mother whispered, her cheek raw and pink from his hand. "The young child died many days ago of illness. There was no elf."

"You expect me to believe that? Tell me where they are and I'll let you leave."

"You would never let me leave. And what of the boy? There are no others. You **must **trust my word." Mother begged.

"That I shall **never **do. Those who befriend the enemy ARE the enemy."

"For thousands of years elves and men have lived in peace. They are not enemies!" she choked on her tears for a moment, then swallowed loudly and continued. "The elves are your allies. There is no need for war unless you bring it upon yourself. PLEASE! Stop this madness! What is it you want that is greater than peace?"

His scared face glared threateningly at her. "Everything." He turned to wink at the men behind him. They snatched mother from the chair and began to carry her towards a hole in the corner of the room where flames were leaping up from inside hungrily.

"Mother!" I screamed, pushing the gag from my mouth with my tongue. She glimpsed back at me and our eyes met for the last time. 'I love you' she mouthed slowly. Suddenly but expectantly the men around her threw her down into the fiery pit.

They carried me over to the hole and for a moment I thought they would throw me down too, but instead they dangled me over the edge so I could watch my mother burn- slowly. So the sounds of her screams could embed themselves in my mind forever.

Mother!

The only person who understood the boundaries of mortal life, the only one who cared for me in those years where Father was gone, the one who gave me life, and the one who took her own for me.

My mother. Now lost forever. Gone. And it was all my fault.


	8. My Turn

7

My Turn

When the men were sure that my mother was little more than a pile of ash and charred bones, my turn came. I was too grief stricken to fight back, wailing my mother's name until my throat was coarse and my lungs empty. I gasped in foul air that poisoned my lungs and prepared myself for what awaited me.

The chair still stood in the center of the room- unmoved, yet more threatening than ever, yet they carried me past it into another room. This room was brightly lit with blinding white light from a hole in the rock ceiling. The hole was less than a meter wide and the sun was directly above it, gleaming its pale face down on me, yet a chill still ran down my spine.

A short dark skinned man in the corner retrieved a metal pole from behind him and brought it beneath the light of the hole. I could see now two firm ropes hanging on either side of the gap and these were tightly bound to my wrists. The ropes were used to haul me to the ceiling until my head was floating just beneath the void above. My arms felt as if they were being tugged from the sockets, as the further up they pulled me, the further my hands became from the rest of my body. My shoulders strained against the tug of the ropes but still they persisted. I squeezed my eyes shut and cried out in pain, my blood boiling through my veins, adrenaline seeping through my entire body. 'One more tug', I thought to myself, 'and I will be known as Hesper no-arms'. But they didn't tug once more, for the Captain had just entered the wide cavernous doorway and the ropes were tied to metal hooks on opposite sides of the stony grotto, where they held me, suspended in the dusty air.

The short man handed the steel rod to the Captain, who grinned as he felt the cold metal against his hand, slowly pacing across the expanse of the room, getting closer to me with each step.

"What is your name, boy?" he spoke the way he had to mother at first- soothing and gently though his voice was cracked and harsh.

"Hesper."

"Hesper? Hesper who?"

I clenched my jaw tightly, stubbornly refusing.

"HESPER WHO?" he roared.

"Hesper Orchad-Ash" is mumbled, more of a whisper to myself than a response.

He grinned, showing the yellow teeth that protruded from his black gums. "And may I guess that that was your mother?"

If he didn't guess that I would definitely be surprised, after the way I cried her name, over and over and over till I would never forget it.

"Can I tell you a story?" he glanced up at me excitedly. I didn't respond so he went on;

"Now as you might know, there was a war a few years ago between men of Gondor, Rohan and Arnor and a large troupe of orcs living in the Misty Mountains. The men from the villages of Gondor passed this way; you are from one of those, are you not?"

I nodded, remembering Father waving goodbye, tears in his eyes, as he went to join the other village men on their long journey to Rohan, to help defend it from the constant orc raids. That was the last time I ever saw his face.

"Well, they passed through here and begged for shelter and supplies so I brought them into my caves." He gestured to the room around him. "Caves built not by any mining dwarf or goblin but by me! My own caves I took many years to build with the help of many men. Now if you had soldiers staying with you, what would you do with them?" he didn't wait for a response before he continued. "Well you would take away their weapons until they were leaving, feed them, and let them rest.

"So that is what I did. Now I am no fan of anything abnormal, as perhaps you might know, and so I was sure not to let any elf scum stay in my halls."

I gulped, thinking of Father.

"Every man came in one by one and was inspected- no weapons, no… elfishness. They each wrote their names in this big book of mine," he gestured to one of the men who stood by a doorway in the corner of the room, who went in a returned a few seconds later with a large red leather book. "And I have kept this book, waiting to read it once more." The other man handed him the book and he opened it to the very first page.

"Ha! What do you know! I found the elf scum as soon as he entered because he was twelfth on the list!" I was starting to shake now; I could hardly see my eyes were so full of tears. "Would you like to see who he was?" he held the book to my face and I blinked so the hot tears spilt down my face. I tried to read the letters but they all melted into a pile of smudges.

"Can't read? Its number twelve. Would you like to know his name?"

I didn't need to guess, I already knew.

"Phalandrir Orchad-Ash."


	9. Rescue

8

Rescue

As soon as the Captain said my Father's name it was like the first time I read his name on _The Fallen _list all over again. Only now mother wasn't here to hold me, and Lily wasn't here to calm me down. My entire body went limp and my feet felt like weights as they tried to reach the floor below.

The Captain began to laugh, a cruel harsh sound.

"Do you want to know what we did to him?"

I shook my head, "NO!"

He just laughed. "Bring it in boys! Number 16 in my vast 'collection'."

The short man and the man by the corner doorway went inside the next room and returned with wooden pole that stood on a small platform. It had a large object on top, which was covered with a piece of black cloth. The two men placed it in front of me so I could see it clearly and the Captain stepped forward to where it stood, dropping the book and pole on the ground beside him so he could grasp the center of the cloth. He looked at me, his eyes glowing with anticipation, then he whipped of the cloth like a closh covering a meal. Beneath it was the most disturbing thing I had ever seen.

It was the head of my Father.

His long silky brown hair had been raggedly cut to reveal his delicately pointed ears, and his eyes were glassy mirrors of ocean blue. My Father had once had a handsome, charming face, but now it was pale and rotting. Dried blood plastered his lips and nose in small black speckles.

The men carried the head away so that the Captain could interrogate me, now that I had no courage left. He grabbed the metal beam from the floor and stared deep into my eyes.

"Were there any others with you?"

I bit tongue so hard it bled. I couldn't give away Myral and Lily- no matter what happened to me. I couldn't waste my mother's sacrifice. The Captain swung the beam at me, and it was only then that I realized one end of it was hot as a poker. My leg sizzled beneath the heat of the hot iron.

"WHERE ARE THEY?" this time he shoved it onto my chest. I screamed, my heart pounding, the pain unbearable. But I wouldn't speak.

Throwing the beam to the ground he drew his knife, still wet with the elf's blood. "One last chance" he whispered, holding the blade to my ear. I didn't speak.

The agony of what he did next was excruciating, for he did it as slowly as possible so I could feel maximum pain. He cut of my left ear. My slightly pointed, slightly elvish ear that was one of the few reminders that I had special blood in me.

My voice filled the air, my scream high pitched and eerie. I could feel the blood trickling down my face, oozing from the wound, my ear now lying on the floor in a pool of blood.

"Where are they?"

"Right here." The voice came from above and I looked up the hole to see Myral, or at least his silhouette, bold and black before the bright sun. He held his bow, the arrow already slotted in and fired through the hole- three shots. One in the heart of a guard, the second in the stomach of another and the third straight in the eye of the Captain.

Myral reached for the ropes that held me, cutting one with his knife and grabbing the hand that now hung loosely. He did the same to the other, then hauled me out with all his strength. He looked exhausted and his face was covered in blood. Lily stood a meter away, crying small crystal tears. Myral seized me in his arms and began to run, Lily running too. We needed to get to the Northern Borders.

A few men had begun to run after us, archers shooting poor arrows that whistled past out heads- although one didn't miss. Instead it plunged deep into my shoulder piercing my skin as if it were little more than a sheet of paper.

Myral and Lily kept running, I don't know how long. All I know is we got there. We got over the border and I was lying on the ground looking at their faces, and their faces were sad. Like they knew I was going to die but I couldn't think of how. I felt so numb, painless. It felt good. I felt the sun on my face and salty tears splashing onto my cheeks. I smelt blood and sweat but I smelt cinnamon and water lilies and rain. I tasted salt and metallic blood but I tasted water. And I heard a song. I heard them singing a soft lullaby in a language I couldn't speak, their beautiful voices harmonizing a sweet rhythm that filled the air. Then I saw light.


	10. Reunited

9

Reunited

Was this death? Because it was beautiful. There was no pain. There was no suffering. There was a pure white ship, with golden sails, gliding over a sparkling sea. The sun was gleaming overhead on a pale blue sky that had no clouds. There was the horizon behind and the horizon ahead, glowing warmly. The water was so clear I could see the very bottom, filled with corals of colors I had never known to even exist. And there were things swimming in the water, fish, turtles and fair ladies with scaly tails and long bright hair that sashayed behind them in the water.

We came to an island. Who is we? Well it was just me, but I felt as if I was surrounded by so many people. The island had pearly white sand that stretched out towards emerald woodland, full of life and splendor and magnificence. I looked down to see my robes, made of a soft silver material. My bare feet sank into the velvety sand as I slowly ambled along the shore. But I was not alone.

A beast awaited me, not a bloodthirsty villainous beast but an elegant horse as white as the sand between my toes. His hair was long and milky white and rested gently on his soft neck. A glossy horn sat in the center of his head and gleamed a pale shell pink. I had never seen a unicorn before. I held out my hand towards it beckoningly and it rubbed its head against me gently. I stared deep into its violet eyes as it stared into mine and I could feel the connection between us like I had seen him before. That when I realized that of course I had! Now that my necklace was gone the real thing stood in its place, with eyes that glowed even brighter than the crystal.

"What is your name?" I asked, but not aloud, it was more of a thought but a response soon followed.

"Arë." His eyes responded.

"What a beautiful name. What does it mean?"

"Sunlight." And I could see how, his short silvery fur glowing beneath the soft gentle light of Anar, the Sun.

"Come now, Hesper. There are some who await you." I had no idea how he knew my name, but after the connection I had felt before I wouldn't doubt he knew everything about me.

Arë bowed before me so I could slide onto his smooth back. I curled a few of his hairs around my finger to secure me, and he stood up slowly and carefully on his silver hooves. Then he began to run, and we melted into the wind. Our hair flew behind us, a stream of white and brown gliding through the fresh air. Arë was so fast I could swear the wind would bow down to him. The sun opened its blazing petals to caress my skin, and the wind carried us. I had never felt so alive, with the heartbeat of Arë in my ear, the smell of pine and honey in my nostrils, the thrumming hooves of Arë filling my chest with deep rhythmical vibrations. We stopped after we had run for a while and I wanted so badly for this to never end, but once I slid off the gentle arch of his back I noticed something in the distance that made me curious.

From what seemed like nowhere there emerged two figures, clothed in white and gold, their faces beaming with pleasure. The smaller stepped forward, and I could see she was a woman with long golden hair that was plaited neatly above her head, and eyes like dark, smooth, brown mud in a way that seemed charming.

Mother!

I felt her in my arms, soft and warm and real, and she was kissing my head tenderly. The other figure now came into view and immediately I recognized his dark glossy hair, gentle defined face, and jovial blue eyes which made the sky seem plain and simple.

"Father!"

"Hesper!" I leapt into his strong arms and felt like a child again. My heart was bursting with happiness. All we needed now was Lily and the family would be complete. Arë left us soon after with the promise of his return reflecting on his sparkling lavender eyes. After my parents and I had spent the whole afternoon talking and laughing and feeling happy once more, night began to fall and the silvery moon rose.

"Goodnight, Hesper." My mother whispered, her voice gentle and loving. "One day you will return, and we shall see you again."

"What? Where am I going?"

"It is not yet your time here, Hesper." Said my father softly. "You are not yet one of us. Life still grips you within her small fingers, she is not ready to let go."

He hugged me once more.

"Arë will soon return to carry you home so that when you wake up, you will not be here, but you will be safe, and happy, and reunited with others who love you." Spoke mother, kissing my head once more. Then they left me, lying on the sand, the waves singing me to sleep until Arë returned, elegant and graceful. When I was seated on his back he began to run again, but instead of continuing along the silver shore he rose into the air as if on a path through the endless empyrean of the sky.

I couldn't believe we were flying! Without even wings, Arë carried me through the night. The stars laughed openly to one another while the Isil, the pale moon watched over us lovingly. I slowly closed my eyes, feeling the wind flow over me, a single tear slowly gliding down my face at the beauty of death. Whether this was just a dream or not, it was precious, just like Lily, and unforgettable. Sleep accepted me willingly and the hum of the stars greeted me into the realm of Lorien, the realm of dreams.

I woke to find myself in a soft bed of blue in a white room with golden windows, and not entirely alone, yet with Arë nowhere to be seen. Myral sat beside me, and we he saw my eyes flicker I felt him embrace me against his warm body. His lustrous blonde hair was lightly braided and his clothes were blue and silver. Myral's amber flecked crystal eyes shone like diamonds and glistened with enthusiasm.

"I'm so glad you're awake. I'm so glad you're alive!" his melodic voice leaped exhilaratingly.

I grinned sheepishly, "yet again I am in debt to you."

"There is no debt. Consider it paid."

"Thank you." He smiled gleefully, and then reached for something from his pocket.

"here." He said. "I think you dropped this." I looked down to see what he was holding in his warm hands and immediately the glint of violet light struck me and my mouth stretched into a wide grin. It was the necklace- partially covered in dried blood and dust but the necklace all the same. I remembered Arë, soaring through the sky with me on his back and laughed playfully.

"Thank you. It was from my Father."

"Lily is outside sleeping if you're wondering. I'll tell you when she wakes up." He rose to his feet and began to leave the room, his steps so light I could hardly hear them.

"Wait,"

He turned round to face me curiously.

"Welcome to the family."

He grinned.

"Myral whatever-your-name-was," I began.

"Tuile. Myral Tuile." He interrupted.

"Myral Tuile, of the Woodland realm, I now pronounce you Myral Tuile Orchad-Ash, and my brother." I announced pompously, trying to sound posh and official but my laughter bursting though.

His eyes filled with tears to hear me call us brothers, but they were tears of joy, the same that filled my eyes. As soon as he opened the door Lily rushed in and leapt onto the bed, her buttery yellow hair flying behind her. She filled my arms, and her voice filled my head, her magical love echoing constantly.

I was safe, happy, reunited with those I love most. I didn't even care I had an enormous scar in my shoulder and burns all up my leg and chest, and pains that would never heal, because I had love.

The world has never seemed so perfect,

So beautiful,

So Heartbreakingly Lovely.


End file.
